


Wisps and Shadows

by katayla



Category: Dark Is Rising Sequence - Susan Cooper
Genre: Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-15 09:19:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13027983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katayla/pseuds/katayla
Summary: Jane struggles with her memory.





	Wisps and Shadows

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The_Wavesinger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Wavesinger/gifts).



Jane didn't remember much from when she was younger. It had become something of a family joke. Simon or Barney would mention something that had happened and everyone would look at Jane, who would shrug helplessly.

"Surely you remember finding the grail?" Simon asked. He, Jane, and Barney were in Simon's room, as Simon was packing for his return to university. It had been the first time he'd come home since leaving and he'd filled the break with "Do you remember?" questions.

"I do," Jane said, and hesitated before plunging on. " _How_ did we find it? What were we doing in that cave?"

"I suppose we were playing around," Simon said. "Being silly children."

He had taken to saying things like that, as if his childhood was years and years ago.

"Going on a quest," Barney said. "Pretending to be one of King Arthur's knights."

"King Arthur!" Simon said. "I might have known you hadn't grown out of that."

"Just because you're a university student now!" Barney retorted.

But that word, quest, had ignited something in Jane and when she closed her eyes, she seemed to see images of maps and clues and an old family friend who had disappeared from their lives.

And that night, she dreamed of an ageless woman looking at her with sorrow and affection in her blue, blue eyes.

"Aw, Jane," the Lady said--and Jane knew she was the Lady, not simply "the lady." "You have too much Wild Magic in you to have easily forgotten."

"But I forget everything," Jane said. She looked beyond the Lady, but all she could see was mist. There were no hints of land or other people.

"Do you?" 

And the Lady reached out to her and Jane's attention was caught by the rose ring on the Lady's hand. Jane held her breath because suddenly she wanted the touch of the Lady's hand more than anything she'd ever wanted in her life.

But the Lady's hand fell before it reached her. "Oh, Jana, we've left the world to you, and I must not interfere. Be brave, my daughter."

"You've said that to me before," Jane said. She couldn't remember ever seeing the Lady before, yet she was convinced this wasn't the first time she had seen that look of love, heard that note of deep concern.

And the Lady smiled and the dream faded away.

Jane felt like she floated through the rest of sixth form and her A-levels. She took her history exams, feeling like she'd barely needed to study, as if all the answers had been deep within her. And in English Literature, surely she hadn't picked up that much about King Arthur from Barney?

"Of course you did." Simon snorted. "Him and Bran babbling on like they knew him."

"But--" Jane said, and then stopped, confused. But what? Why did she feel like arguing about such an obvious statement? Of course they didn't know King Arthur.

"Anyway," Simon said. "You'll like university. No more King Arthur."

Jane _did_ like university. She found herself staying up late and sleeping in, dreaming dreams of wonder that she half-remembered when she woke up. And there _was_ King Arthur. She signed up for classes of mythology and folklore and legend.

It was almost a relief when the Greek and Roman myths weren't familiar to her. Stories of Hera and Artemis and Athena didn't give her that nagging feeling that she should know more, that these _meant_ something like the British legends did.

And then, just before winter break, her professor told them the story of the Greenwitch. Jane found herself staring at the professor, wanting to cry and not knowing why. And yet, looking forward to dreaming that night.

"I hoped you would come," Jane said, stepping towards the Lady.

The Lady held out a hand. "I cannot help you."

"Can't you--answer questions?" Jane asked. "There is so much I don't know."

"You are human," the Lady said. (And the Lady wasn't, not quite, was she? Another thing Jane knew without knowing.)

"But the Greenwitch," Jane said. "I know it, I know it. I need to _know_."

And she stopped, frustrated, because she was always running out of words and explanations. The Lady took a step towards Jane and stroked her hair.

"Oh my Juno, the Greenwitch is your magic, not mine."

"I don't have any magic," Jane said, and her heart hurt at that admission. 

The Lady's cupped Jane's cheek in her hand. "If you had no magic, I could not reach you."

"But--"

The Lady's finger brushed across Jane's lips. "Perhaps you should take a visit to Trewissick this Easter."

When Jane woke up, she called Will to ask about a place to stay in Trewissick. 

"Why?" Will asked. "You stayed there before me, don't you remember?"

And Jane reached out for the strands of memory. Yes, she and Simon and Barney had found the grail and then, later, they'd came back with . . . who? And they'd met Will and they'd . . . what?

"Jane?" Will asked.

"I don't know," Jane said. "But can't you arrange it?"

"Just you?" Will asked. "Not your brothers?"

"They don't--" And then something struck her. "Will, you know, don't you?"

"Know what?" Will asked, easily, smoothly, and she could picture the exact expression on his face. Pleasant and innocent, friendly and carefree.

"Everything," Jane said, and she could hear the longing in her own voice.

"No one knows everything, Jane."

"We lost something, didn't we? My brothers and I. And . . . and Bran, too. Bran . . . he lost so much." (An image of Bran, with wind in his hair and command on his face . . . )

"Jane, what do you remember?"

Jane felt herself near tears. "I remember that I don't remember."

A long pause on the other end of the line. "Jane . . . "

"You can't take it away!" Jane said. "Don't make me forget. The Lady said--"

"The Lady?" Will's voice was sharp, no longer the slightly concerned friend.

"She said I have too much of the Wild Magic about me to forget."

And she could hear Will take a deep breath. "Yes, that makes sense. All right, Jane. I will arrange it."

So Jane took the train to Trewissick for Easter holidays to stay with the Penhallows. "You stayed in their cottages before, of course," Will had said, so when an unfamiliar man picked Jane up from the train station, she knew not to ask for an introduction.

"My wife is that happy you're coming to stay," Mr. Penhallow said. "What fun you young creatures had in these cottages."

Jane listened politely as they drove, but all around, she felt memories trickling at the back of her head. That hill . . . that boat . . . the quay . . . and a grey house that she . . . but the thought slipped away before she could follow it.

And then they were pulling up in front of a cottage that Jane almost remembered. And Mrs. Penhallow came out the door to greet her.

"I remember," Jane whispered to herself and let herself be drawn into Mrs. Penhallow's hug.

"All grown up!" Mrs. Penhallow said, looking up at Jane. "And young Will stopped by to arrange this personally. So handsome."

Jane followed Mrs. Penhallow into the cottage, looking all around her.

"I've put you in your old room," Mrs. Penhallow said, as they walked upstairs. "You so enjoyed it last time."

"Yes," Jane said, and walked towards the window to gaze out across Trewissick. There was that grey house again . . . and--and Kemare Head. Her brain supplied the name as if she had never forgotten anything.

"And you'll come along to the Greenwitch ceremony, of course."

Jane turned her head sharply. 

"Well!" Mrs. Penhallow bustled around the room. "You've been there before, after all. We can hardly keep you out."

"Thank you," Jane said.

Jane expected to see the Lady that night, but when she woke up, she didn't remember any dreams. All around her that day, the world seemed to be waiting. She walked through the village and up the hills and her memories were so close at hand. She smiled at half familiar faces and chatted with not-quite-strangers.

And then, at night, Mrs. Penhallow led her to the headland and the making. Jane sat by the fire and watched women of all ages bring branches and stones and weave them together. And she remembered seeing it all before.

"So you have returned."

And Jane looked up to see the leader, older now, but still tall and straight.

"I remember you," Jane said.

The woman tilted her chin in acknowledgement. "And so, Jane Drew, the Greenwitch has called you back."

Was that it? 

"You may wish," the woman said, "but take care. There is no going back once you touch the Greenwitch again."

And she disappeared back into the crowd, leaving Jane to stare into the fire. Jane let herself drift and drift and she saw the Lady's ring flash, those hawkish eyes of Great Uncle Merry stare at her (Great Uncle Merry! Had she forgotten him, too?), and Will standing all alone. And then, very faintly, the images of her brothers and Bran.

"You could wish to forget," the Lady said, and Jane somehow wasn't surprised to find her sitting next to her.

"And then I would remember?" Jane asked. "I would know whatever it is my brothers do."

"Yes. It is not a bad set of memories," the Lady said. "After all, I crafted them myself."

"That's what Will wants," Jane said. Very faintly, she could hear laughter from the other women, and see the Greenwitch, almost complete now.

"He is still very young."

"What else?" Jane asked, and she turned and her gaze caught in the Lady's blue eyes. "What is my other choice?"

The Lady's hands caressed Jane's cheeks. "My Jane, I cannot tell you that."

Jane closed her eyes and enjoyed the warmth of those hands. When she opened them, the Lady was gone and the leader had taken her place.

"Come," the woman said and held out her hand.

Jane let herself be pulled towards the Greenwitch. It was the same great, broad shape it had been before. And she felt that same towering sense of magic, much more familiar now. Jane stepped towards it and let both her hands curl around branches, hawthorne in one hand and rowan in the other.

"You came back to me," the Greenwitch whispered in her mind.

"Yes," Jane answered silently.

"And now you are as lonely as I am."

And Jane felt as if her heart was pierced, as the Greenwitch put the name to the feeling she had carried with her for years.

"You could come with me," the Greenwitch said.

"I don't think I can," Jane said.

"No," the Greenwitch said. "And have you come to make a wish for yourself?"

"No," Jane said. And here, then, was the answer. If she forgot, she would forget the Greenwitch, too, and someone should remember it, remember its power and loneliness.

"And so you will remember," the Greenwitch said. "You will remember and bear all the responsibility of the Wild Magic. Guard it well."

And then Jane was pulled away, but the power of the Greenwitch didn't fade from her mind.

And when she returned to her bed and her dreams, she met the Lady as an equal.


End file.
